Five minutes before the live broadcast of Broke Defense? Ex-Husband Bro! began.
Netizen Discussion Zone:
【Program name is hilarious】
【What’s the deal with this variety show? We’ve seen shows about dating, getting married, getting divorced… but remarrying? Never heard of it!】
【Aaaah, save me!! I’m seriously losing it!!! Why is my baby on this show??? My baby’s only 23!!! That damn agency is inhuman! What kind of gig did they line up for my kid???】
【Your kid’s 23 and you still call him baby? #popcorn.gif】
【What happened?】
【The observation room lineup just dropped—out of 8 people, 7 are A-listers. The juiciest part? Over these 15 days of live streaming, two guests from the live rooms might get voted into the cabin later to pursue their ex-husbands or ex-wives again.】
【Whoa! Aren’t the observation room folks all single or married? Who’s the divorcee?】
【Haha, half the top stars in showbiz are squeezing into that studio observation room. This is gonna be wild.】
【What if all eight are divorced? And they all end up in the remarriage cabin?】
【All divorced? Debuting as the Eight Divorced Elites squad?】
【Don’t spout nonsense. The program group said only two celebs actually have exes in the cabin, and they have super strong remarriage vibes—that’s why they’re here. The rest are just tagging along for the ride.】
【Haha, Qian Xingzhi’s out first.】
【Haha, Qian Xingzhi’s out first.】
【Haha, Qian Xingzhi’s out first.】
【Noob question: Why rule out Qian Xingzhi?】
【Does Qian Xingzhi look like he’s ever had a wife? Dude seems uninterested in all humanity.】
【Fans, chill. Skipping Jiang Cheng ’cause he’s barely legal marriage age is one thing, but Brother Qian’s in his mid-thirties—he’s the one we should worry about.】
【What nonsense!? Even the eight major tabloids say our Brother Qian’s never dated, squeaky clean private life—wraps filming and crashes, all in on honing his craft.】
【Three years grinding on roles, not snatching your traffic, and now he does one show to boost ratings? And you awkward-black him for it?】
【Awkward-black where? Tell me—with his clout and rep, if he’s not tied to the show somehow, why would he bother propping it up?】
【Heh, loser. Qian Xingzhi snagged every major award domestic and abroad at 32. The killer works and roles he’s created outnumber what the other 7 guests have combined. No time for romance.】
【Five-Time Film Emperor Qian Xingzhi (heart) Dual TV Emperor Qian Xingzhi (heart) Strength-Only Qian Xingzhi (heart) Unchanging Heart Qian Xingzhi (heart) Career-Focused Qian Xingzhi (heart) Qian-Loving Qian Xingzhi (heart) (heart) (heart) (fan parade rolls by)】
【Five-Time Film Emperor Qian Xingzhi (heart) Dual TV Emperor Qian Xingzhi (heart) Strength-Only Qian Xingzhi (heart) Unchanging Heart Qian Xingzhi (heart) Career-Focused Qian Xingzhi (heart) Qian-Loving Qian Xingzhi (heart) (heart) (heart) (fan parade rolls by)】
【Fans got it rough—brushing gifts, empty bottles, and maybe even breaking defense in the end.】
【Showdown incoming. Wonder whose house collapses first.】
【They went all out. These traffic monsters don’t need to air dirty laundry for exposure anymore. Joining a remarriage show like this? Must’ve taken guts.】
【Yeah, the hangers-on are whatever, but what’re those two divorcees after?】
【Hey, screen’s lighting up!】
—
Shen Li’s face appeared first on the screen.
His skin was very fair, like thin white paper, though a bit rough, with faint dry lines at the corners of his eyes.
His eyes were narrow and long, his nose bridge high and straight, his lips thin and bloodless. The man looked gaunt overall, as if he’d just recovered from a serious illness—fragile, not built for hardship. Yet no one could deny Shen Li was beautiful, every angular bone a masterpiece as if Nüwa herself had shown off.
But…
He frowned faintly, his cold gaze scanning the surroundings like a judge, eyes dry and unsparkling. He didn’t look friendly—rather fierce, even.
The camera pulled back, shrinking Shen Li’s close-up. The scene cut to the studio observation room, where four of the announced eight celeb observers sat in a row for the live premiere, all eyes glued to Shen Li’s screen like they were watching critters on Animal Planet.
“Shen Li” and “Male No. 1” popped up on screen.
No other info—just space for the star guests to weigh in.
Suddenly.
A man’s voice cut through the 15-second broadcast silence:
“Family! I really like this one!!!”
Before he finished, a woman’s cold snort followed: “Tch, he’s my ex-husband. What’s to like?”
The guy who’d just slammed the table yelling he loved it was Qin Zhao, former actor turned producer, absent from screens for ages.
Hearing the hot female star’s claim, he kept yelling: “Yao Shuang! You’re a single gal—quit faking! Watch your words, watch your words.”
“Where am I faking?” Yao Shuang arched a brow, her fiery red lips curving into a smile as she faced the live camera. “Family, cards on the table from the jump: Shen Li and I were secretly married for a year, divorced for one now—vote for me to enter the cabin! I’ll spill every story, but first, I gotta win him back!”
The Netizen Discussion Zone exploded.
Two hashtags shot to the top:
MaleNo1Beauty
MaleNo1ShenLiIsYaoShuangExHusband
But five minutes later, the second one cooled off.
Because netizens spotted…
Every celeb in that observation room was playing the game—out of the four present, three swore up and down that No. 1 male guest Shen Li was their ex.
They were going wild, wedding venues for their “remarriage” with Shen Li already planned, acting like they’d storm the cabin to fight for him right then.
Everyone except Qian Xingzhi.
The guy was on a remarriage show and still acting all prim—couldn’t loosen up a bit.
“Qian Xingzhi! What do you think of Male No. 1?” Yao Shuang spotted his silence and called him out.
Qian Xingzhi’s handsome, sharp features stayed stiff, his aloof eyes narrowing as he frowned without a word.
Traffic idol Wang Zixin jumped in to keep things lively: “Haha, sis, I bet Brother Qian’s the type with his first kiss saved for marriage—hey Brother Qian, you thirty-something? Pushing forty?”
Qian Xingzhi: “…?”
“Oh~ I think he’s 35?” Qin Zhao piled on. “Heard he chugs herbal tonics daily.”
Qian Xingzhi: “…”
Wang Zixin: “Whoa! Brother Qian, no comeback? I’ve always wondered why you’re so quiet. Say one extra word and a monster eats you or what?”
Qian Xingzhi crossed his arms with a cool smirk. His chiseled, camera-ready features shone, but the man just didn’t talk. His gaze locked dead on the live screen in front of him—
The screen.
Where Qian Xingzhi’s own face and Shen Li’s sat side by side on split broadcast feeds, looking perfectly matched.
Qian Xingzhi wasn’t staring on purpose—the image just glued his eyes in place. Only Yao Shuang’s fake cough snapped him out of it.
His ear roots flushed red as his tightly pressed lips finally parted:
“Childish.”
The observation room burst into laughter.
Live chat effects maxed out.
Meanwhile, the vibe in the [Remarriage Swap Cabin] was a bit subdued.
Remarriage, swapping, cabin.
Each word packed a punch.
First off, everyone in this cabin was divorced—no innocents here. They knew marriage inside out, the asset splits in divorce, the costs of remarrying. Strip away the practicalities, boil it down to emotions and hormones? Not kid stuff.
Second, swapping?
That was spicy.
Over more than ten days of live streaming, they’d not only get face time with their exes but possibly “other options” too. These folks were cream of the crop from all walks—looks, education, income, background all top-shelf. On the street or a dating market? Forget it.
If the show hooked them up with someone better, ditch the ex, flirt with new blood? Why not—love’s free. The rest…
Deal with it post-show.
Plus.
The observation room’s eight guests included film emperor Qian Xingzhi, post-85 diva Yao Shuang, actor-turned-producer Qin Zhao, top traffic star Wang Zixin, national heartthrob Jiang Cheng… Out of these eight A-list heavyweights, two had exes or spouses among them.
Voted in by viewers, those two would join the cabin life too.
Hook up with an A-lister for fun?
Who knew if swap-love would swap in your own.
The swap-love cabin.
A transparent glass house.
The confined space locked down their every move.
Save bathroom breaks, every word and action exposed to cameras. Anyone play-acting at first? By day 10, the mask slips—beauty or beast, time reveals the real shine.
So not every guest signed up for remarriage or romance—
Some wanted to expose their ex, vent grudges from married-fool days.
Some wanted self-exposure, prime for post-show endorsements.
Shen Li followed the director inside and immediately noticed the cabin’s eerie quiet—dead silent.
The cameraman tailed his face for three to five minutes of close-ups, then nodded, signaling he could move freely.
Xiao Chen had confirmed with him too: before 3 p.m., he could chat, unpack—unified tasks started at three. With the live just kicking off, the focus stayed on those studio bigshots.
One, program group banking on celeb privacy bombs for traffic.
Two, sponsors needed an hour for product plugs.
Three, eight regular guests unedited live? No tags, no personas—chaos, viewers confused. So start with sequenced close-ups, observation room callouts to etch memories, let audiences familiarize for three hours before games.
Shen Li had no objections, no thoughts. Program group called the shots; he followed.
With the two cameramen now out of the room, Shen Li turned around inside his glass enclosure and let out a yawn. He was really feeling sleepy.
With three hours still ahead, Shen Li didn’t hesitate. He unpacked his meager luggage, found his thermos and took a sip of water, then neatly folded his bedding, rolled it up, swept the bed, made it again, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and—turning his back to the camera—took off his prim and proper button-up shirt, changing into the white old-man shirt he only wore for sleeping…
He pulled back the covers.
And climbed into bed for a quick nap.
He just couldn’t hold on any longer; he was too exhausted.
Besides, right now only the fixed camera in the room was filming, and the live stream would soon switch to product placements anyway. The program group had said these three hours were entirely theirs to spend freely.
Back in school, Shen Li’s favorite four characters had been “free activity.” As a cop, they’d been “free search.” Now on this variety show, they’d become “free time.”
Recording a variety show was truly wonderful.
He even got paid just to sleep.
Shen Li drifted off to sleep completely at ease, without a care in the world.
But the viewers in the live stream were stunned.
Had the male lead in this split-screen window really fallen asleep just like that, looking so refreshingly innocent?!
【What? Jealous of his sleep quality—can he really fall asleep at a time like this?】
【Is this just for show? Using sleep for hype?】
【Holy crap, he actually fell asleep!】
【OMG, sleeping beauty—gorgeous to death!!】
【Who was the one eating so well before?】
【Give my no-good Qian Xingzhi a kick—why doesn’t he go fight for this ex-wife!?】
【He just used the cup, toothpaste, and toothbrush provided by the program group, right? Looks like he didn’t even bring his own toiletries.】
【He doesn’t seem pretentious at all.】
【Once all eight contestants introduce themselves, is number one already the peak?】
【I’m in love at first sight… Don’t even want to look at the rest.】
【Holy crap, who said that? Is Shen Li actually lame? For real?】
【Didn’t you see how he walks? His leg is limping…】
–
Meanwhile.
The observation room had also caught sight of the discussions in the netizen discussion zone.
Qin Zhao clenched his fist against his lips and fake-coughed before chuckling. “I see someone’s being rude in the comments.”
Wang Zixin jumped right in. “No personal attacks in the comments, okay? His legs are just fine—no calling him lame or anything. He just twisted his ankle a few days ago by accident.”
Today’s guest host, Yao Shuang, stiffened for a moment. She raised an eyebrow at Qin Zhao and Wang Zixin, then glanced at Qian Xingzhi.
Qian Xingzhi remained seated with his arms crossed and a cold expression, his gaze never leaving the split-screen of number one. But he showed no intention of speaking.
Seeing she couldn’t stay silent, Yao Shuang looked down at her script and continued earnestly.
“Um, contestant number one, Shen Li, has a disability.”
The words had barely left her mouth.
The netizen discussion zone exploded instantly, while the live observation room fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Aside from Yao Shuang, the host with her script, the other two guests showed varying degrees of surprise on their faces.
Only Qian Xingzhi, seated calmly in his chair and having barely spoken from the start, stared coldly at the screen. He took the initiative to follow up on Yao Shuang’s words. “There’s no need to dwell on his physical condition. He’s an outstanding person.”
As soon as he spoke, the other three guests turned to look at him.
Wang Zixin reacted instantly and chimed in, saying something about paying attention to people with disabilities. Qin Zhao quickly added that the guests’ jobs and personal histories would be revealed gradually over the next few days in the program, hinting that the live stream viewers shouldn’t spoil anything.
Qian Xingzhi turned his face slightly away. Aside from capturing a fleeting dark look in his eyes, the camera couldn’t quite make out his expression any longer. But the microphone picked up his voice, which was indeed a bit hoarser than usual.
“Next segment. Time to get on with it.”
He prompted Yao Shuang.
Yao Shuang smiled and smoothly moved things along. “Alright, next up is the guest Q&A! Everyone, send your questions for the observation room guests to the netizen discussion zone. The staff will pick the most popular and appropriate ones to ask our four panelists.
By now, the netizen comments were flooding in:
【Oh my god, Qian Xingzhi’s reaction—he’s such a great actor!】
【Yeah, when they talked about Shen Li’s leg being disabled, his reaction was the most like Ex-Husband Bro…】
【More genuine than the others. Not for nothing he’s a movie star.】
